All Things Cold
by Orin
Summary: In which Chika lies dying in chapter 1, and that’s just the beginning of he and Shito’s problems as Shito's past comes back to haunt them both. ChikaxShito fic. Yaoi.
1. Atrophy

Disclaimer: _Neither Zombie Loan nor any of the characters in it belong to me. They all belong to the wonderful duo that is Peach Pit._

**: All Things Cold :**

**Chapter 1**

Well, Chika thought hazily, this is new.

Not the agony lancing his body, no, he'd sort of done that bit before, in varying degrees of pain.

Not the fact that he was not fully aware, reality swimming in and out of focus; this was also an event that was becoming increasingly more common due to his line of work.

And not even the concept that he was dying, as this would be his second time doing even that.

Nope, none of that was particularly new to Akatsuki Chika; he had done it all before after all.

What was different however were the arms wrapped around him, holding his upper body from the cold cement. What was different was the warring concern and anger on Tachibana Shito's face. Anger in itself was not especially new, but concern, well Chika could count the number of times on one hand that he had seen concern on Shito's face.

Shito was shaking him. Again. Chika wanted to reach up and smack him across the head for it because his eyes were already open; the lack of movement was hardly his fault!

"Chika! Oy! Chika!"

That was also new.

Chika could have almost smiled. How messed up was it, he wondered, that the only times he had ever heard Shito call him by his given name, was when he was in a life or death situation? Otherwise, it was Akatsuki, or idiot, or heathen pig – he remembered that one because Shito didn't use it so often- or sometimes, just plain moron.

Chika however? Shito never called him Chika unless he thought Chika was going to die.

That… was not a very comforting realisation for Chika.

He sighed and closed his eyes as his world wobbled and wavered. Shito's shaking was not helping. In fact, it was making him feel sort of sick on top of almost-dead. The last thing Chika wanted to do was to throw up all over himself, and then die.

That would just… Just-

The last thing Chika wanted to do, was die.

Chika did not want to die.

Chika really did not want to die.

"… oy… dumbass-… s-stop tha'…"

It did not sound like him. It was weak and soft and it wavered like his whole world was doing and it sounded nothing like him, Chika knew.

"Akatsuki!"

Back to that crap again. Was that relief on Shito's face? … wait no, more anger. Those features twisted and Shito looked like he was going to shake him again…

" … idiot! Stay awake- Michiru is bringing Yuuta, you need to-"

Chika could only half hear him. He picked up on the Michiru though. Heh. He bet Shito did not even realise he was calling her that…

Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly morbid, and curious- he had to be both or it was just depressing- Chika would wonder how zombies worked. He understood that he was technically dead, but he was not corpse temperature. Chika was not completely cadaver cold. He was more… room temperature. And the thing was that Shito was a bit warmer than him, which he had never understood.

He wondered why zombies bled sometimes. And it was only sometimes that they did. His heart did not beat. That had freaked him out for the first month of his undead life. But it did not, so why did they bleed?

His blood was black, and it was pooling beneath him, and it was room temperature like the rest of him but rapidly cooling.

Chika did not want to die but his world was slowly dimming.

He would have jerked back at the hand to his face, if he could move. Shito was prying one eye open and Chika, once again, wanted to smack him for it. Insensitive bastard, poking at his goddamn eye when Chika was lying there bleeding everywhere and dying!

"Akatsuki- Chika! Open your eyes!" That hand was at his face again, tapping. Not quite slapping, at least, not yet…

"Listen to me- open your eyes – stupid-!"

Like a broken record, Chika thought, but forced them open because he had a feeling that if he did not, Shito would start shaking him again. And that damn tapping was annoying.

He really was going to throw up if that continued.

"… ow…" he announced hoarsely.

There was neither relief nor amusement in Shito's face at Chika's verybad joke. His eyes were narrowed and his grip on Chika was so tight it hurt. On top of other hurts it made Chika wince a little bit, which Shito seemed to notice because that grip relented, just the barest fraction. It was almost like a relief…

"Stay. Awake." Shito said, very slowly, pronouncing each word clearly and properly as one would to a very stupid child.

"… s-shut…. up…" Chika said right back, just as slowly and carefully, though his voice wavered just a little bit and that ruined the taunt completely. "…s'not l-like m'doin… this…. n'purpose…"

Still no relief in those eyes, in fact, Shito looked like he was going to start shouting at Chika. He did not however. He pressed his mouth into that tight line, the way he would when he wanted to say something and was determined to not say it-

Chika's world wavered again, going dark for a moment but Shito's voice at least managed to penetrate that darkness--

"… knowing you, I wouldn't be surprised if you were," he heard Shito say, and was struck with the insane urge to stick his tongue out at the other zombie. But the action would have required effort; just as opening his eyes again would have required effort. Both acts would have taken more than Chika was willing to expend, right at that moment.

"… oy…"

This time he did not get tapped, or shaken. The hand at his face- Shito had never moved it away it seemed- pressed lightly once, before slipping elsewhere. Chika thought for a moment he felt fingers in his hair, but when finally managed to force his eyes open, both of Shito's hands were around him once more and he was being moved.

At least it felt like he was being moved. The sky was shifting and so was the wall to his left and there was nothing under his legs suddenly but air and one warm hand. Lifted. He was being lifted.

"… why're you w-warmer... n'me…?" Chika managed, with the hint of a frown and the vague suggestion of irritation stirring in his dazed mind. It sucked that they were not the same. Somehow it was important that they be the same. And work together. And fix all this bad shit.

And live…

"… s'not fair..." he whispered.

He felt Shito falter, that much at least, somewhat starkly. The world was moving, and then it was not, and then it was again and all Shito told him was, "I know."

He knew what? That still had not answered Chika's question!

"Kita-san left this way, she should return this way," Shito was saying. It sounded like he was talking to more to himself than to Chika, and Chika wanted to ask him who he was trying to kid here.

It was probably already too late. There was only so much Yuuta could do.

"Hey…" he managed.

Shito glanced down at him.

"Hm."

It was a typical Shito opening and Chika knew it.

It kinda made him want to smile a bit. He did not. He closed his eyes instead. His head was resting against Shito's shoulder. He knew the other zombie was covered in his blood but there was nothing he could do about that. He would move his head if he could too, there was something distinctly embarrassing being stuck like this. Moreso that despite everything else it did not feel as bad as it probably should have.

Chika had thought that dying would be harder.

But once the pain started to fade, there was just drowsiness, a sense of surrealism and of being not-quite-there.

And Shito was sort of warm but not too warm, so Chika knew he was there. It seemed important someone be there.

"… Akatsuki…"

"Mmmyea…"

Wait. Oh, right he had something to ask. Chika grasped that some time had past since he had last addressed Shito, and it took him a moment or two to remember what it was he had been thinking.

Shito was no longer moving. He seemed to be sitting down- at least from what Chika could feel. Opening his eyes was too much of a task, but there was a lap under him. That much he could make out. Strong legs, warmer than he was.

Shito had not put him down. Chika had half expected to be dropped on his ass, all things considered. He imaged Shito must have been pissed as all hell about the state of his clothes. Blood stains were a bitch to get out after all.

"… oh… yeah…" That was it. He could not move his hand, but he managed to flex his fingers and at the subtle shift above him, knew Shito was looking at them.

… What was he going to say-

Oh.

"… mi'wanna t-take back your…hand..."

_While you can._

…

Silence.

Shito made this strange noise and then took a breath. A long, slow, deep breath. And it seemed he took several more, and they all sounded as harsh as that weird noise.

"… idiot," was all he said finally.

Just that. Nothing more.

Chika felt like arguing the point, but it did not seem as important anymore. Shito was warm; his own meagre heat had seemed to add to that and this was almost cosy. This could almost be-…

At least he wasn't alone.

But damn, it sucked. It really did.

He wanted to tell Shito, you can have my savings for the loan, but he thought, it's Shito, he'll know what to do anyway. The bastard would not need anyone to tell him that. He wanted to tell Shito not to work Gopher too hard, that was Chika's job and no one else was allowed to do that, not even Shito.

Shit.

It wasn't supposed to be so easy.

It wasn't supposed to be so soft or so warm or so damn welcoming.

He had always fought it. He had always strained against the stupid trappings people called fate and destiny and death. But this was warm. This was different. And Chika could almost- almost- swear he could feel Shito's heart, beat against his own.

It was not possible of course. Zombie hearts did not beat. But for a second or two, it almost felt like it.

"Don't die."

It was whispered. It took Chika almost a full minute to come to the conclusion that it was not the wind, not his imagination, but the person holding him that had said that, whispered that.

He snorted, very softly.

Stupid Shito. He wasn't going to die. Really. Still had a loan to pay off and he'd purposefully not-die just to avoid Shito getting his paws on everything Chika had managed to save so far!

"… mmmm… m'not goin'… anywhere…" he breathed.

Shito was gripping him too tightly again.

But it didn't hurt anymore.

He couldn't feel it anymore.

And it was okay because, dying, Chika realised, wasn't so hard after all.

**: End of Chapter 1 :**

… I'll admit to having not finished a multi-chapter fic in years but am working madly on this one… so. Fingers crossed. Chapter 2 is already done, posting it next week

Feedback for this will be treasured.


	2. Equanimity

Disclaimer: _Neither Zombie Loan nor any of the characters in it belong to me. They all belong to the wonderful duo that is Peach Pit._

**: All Things Cold :**

**Chapter 2**

Three days later, Shito sat in Bekkou's office and fought the urge to fidget.

The world seemed to have dimmed just a little bit more afterwards. Somehow.

Shito could never have explained it, not even had he been asked, how the world was to him. If he had to search for an apt description, absolutely had to, he would probably have likened it to an old photograph. Some forms blurred and were indistinct, and others stood out too sharp relief, so much so that he could not bear to look at them sometimes. Colours were pale and faded, tastes muted.

The city, to Shito, was like an old photograph. Even with Chika in it, it had seemed that way. He had spent long years lingering in shadows of almost-monotone that swept up and around him. It was only once in a while- now and again- that something…. someone clicked in Shito's mind.

Occasionally, there would be someone who neither stood out too much in that sharp relief, nor seemed quite so jaded as the rest of the world… and if they could engage him, just right, then for a few scant moments, Shito's world would bloom into full colour.

Akatsuki Chika, whether Shito liked it or not- and he most certainly did not- was one of those few people.

An idiot. Yes. But one of those few nonetheless.

And three days on, Shito was already tiring of the return to that dull monotone.

"Well, Yuuta tells me Chika-kun seems to be stable finally, so I expect everything will be back to normal before long."

The comment was as offhanded as Bekkou's usually were, but heavy lidded eyes were as bright and shrewd as always behind those spectacles.

Shito eyed him from where he sat, too straight, in the chair Bekkou had ushered him into. Bekkou spoke as though Chika was awake, as though Chika had woken, as though Chika had done anything more than lie there, unresponsive to the world around him for the past eighty-seven hours, and twenty-six minutes.

Not that Shito was counting.

Not that Shito planned on doing anything more than throttling the idiot once he did regain consciousness. Maybe Shito would put a bullet through one of his legs. Just to ensure he stayed in bed of course, because knowing Chika the insufferable idiot would want to be up and about before it was physically possible to be so. Or sanely plausible.

Bekkou steeped his fingers and glanced down at his paperwork.

"Of course… this doesn't excuse you from this month's payment…"

Shito's eyes refocused, hardening at the Ferryman. He did not frown, but he half wanted to. Naturally it would be all business with Bekkou. Though even Shito had seen something akin to worry on that ever calm expression when faced with a nearly dead Akatsuki Chika.

For some unfathomable reason, Shito felt his jaw harden, found himself glaring at Bekkou when logically, he was aware that Bekkou had nothing to do with this-

Chika had nearly died.

"You seem to be a little behind at the moment-"

"We'll catch up," Shito interrupted smoothly and folded his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to clench them. He focused angry eyes beyond Bekkou, past his window and to the oblivious world outside.

Chika had nearly died, that was the crux of his discontent and Shito knew it. The idiot blundered ahead, as the idiot always blundered ahead, taking on something that he could not stand up against. Because of course, Chika could take on the world. What was something he had never seen before? That existed beyond the realm of his understanding? How many times had Shito told him- cautioned him- have a plan before you go charging in blindly! Think tactics instead of just randomly hacking away at your opponent and hoping it will work!

Chika had nearly died and-

"I'm sure you will," Bekkou agreed, interrupting Shito's mental tirade with the same tranquil certitude as he did everything else. Shito found himself scowling at Bekkou before he could quite stop himself.

No. Nothing to do with this, but Shito knew better than to believe the mild mannered gaze was just a mild mannered gaze.

The Ferryman had only asked what had happened in relation to Chika's condition. There were no questions about their opponent. No queries on whether Shito knew anything about it, on why he had not stopped it, on what it had looked like, if he had-

Nothing. Bekkou had asked him nothing in this regard and it made Shito naturally suspicious.

The topic of how much this would cost he and Chika had not come up either. Yet. Shito had no doubt it would, in due time. Bekkou was nothing if not a businessman, first and foremost.

It was possible that the Ferryman was simply waiting for Chika to regain consciousness before he slapped him with how much this particular life saving venture had cost him… possibly giving Chika a heart attack in the process, and bringing them all right back to square one-

… if Chika's heart were to beat that is.

Shito found himself frowning again and tried to ease the expression from his face. When he refocused his eyes on Bekkou, the Ferryman had his head buried in the newspaper and Shito had to blink at the disregard he was being paid.

It seemed their conversation was over.

"It's only a suggestion, but perhaps some sleep wouldn't be amiss," Bekkou mentioned, from somewhere behind the business section.

This time, Shito did not bother to hide the scowl that exploded onto his features. And because it felt good to do so, he snorted derisively, and rose from Bekkou's uncomfortable furniture – Chika had once commented that Bekkou probably kept them that way to prevent people from getting too comfortable and thusly lingering in his office – resisting the urge to iron out the kinks in his back.

"I'm fine," he dismissed.

He had found that being what he was long enough diminished the need for sleep. It was just another human thing that Shito did not need. He would admit however, that sleeping helped him to pass the time and that sometimes his mind got weary from simply being awake.

"I see." Bekkou it seemed, did not miss a beat, "Then, perhaps you could take this to Michiru-san."

Shito turned back to the Ferryman, having already halfway to the door. Bekkou blinked owlishly at him, utter obliviousness written on his face. Shito did not buy it for a second and eyed the little bentou box sitting on his desk.

Unable to help it he raised an eyebrow with the query he would not voice.

Bekkou understood however. He ruffled his newspaper, already scanning the stock market reports.

"Koyomi-san left it behind this morning when she stopped by… I believe it's for Michiru-san…" was all he said.

Shito drew back to the desk with a slow nod, reluctance in every movement.

"Ah."

Michiru. Who had not left Chika since they had gotten him back to the dorms. Who Shito had not seen since he had left…

It was a waste of time anyway, sitting by the idiot's bedside in a meaningless vigil. What good would it do? All Michiru was doing was exhausting herself for a moron in too deep a sleep to notice eitherway. Shito imagined that even if Chika were awake, he wouldn't appreciate the fact.

A complete waste of time.

He took the bento without another word to Bekkou. And in his eagerness to be gone from the office and its occupant, he missed the glint of those spectacles from over the top of that newspaper as he stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

The bang of the door echoed in a most satisfying manner as Shito paced down the hallway.

Michiru was an idiot for waiting with Chika. Chika was an idiot for getting himself into that mess. For nearly dying. It would set them back. It would set them back months. They did not have time. Chika did not have time.

He did not use the elevator to descend. It was a strange machine in a strange world that had changed half a century ago without Shito's permission.

You were not supposed to feel it so intently as an immortal, Shito knew. Time. People thought this. But you did. Sometimes you felt it all the more intently.

How many months until their time was up.

How many days since Chika had gotten himself into this mess.

How many hours….

Shito knew of course. Colours and people could fade, but he always remembered 'when' he was. He knew exactly.

Six hours threading the line between dead and deader as Bekkou and Yuuta did everything they could to sustain Chika, whilst still keeping him… Chika. There was only so much they could do. He was a zombie. There were only so many lines that could be crossed. Chika was not a human anymore.

Nine hours after that where Chika wavered between safety and borderline critical, and Yuuta had been as exhausted as Shito had ever seen him.

Another fourteen hours still where continuous vigilance was maintained on Chika's too still form and it was Michiru who had lamented that they could not even attach a heart monitor. They could not even watch his chest rise and fall and take comfort in that. He had no heartbeat, she had said. He did not even need to breathe…

Her voice had echoed loud and empty in the small room and she had sounded so very afraid.

Shito had left after that. He had not gone back.

Fifty-eight hours ago. Shito had felt every minute.

'Still as death' the saying went. It had rang too true for Shito only once in his long lifetime. At least, up until three days ago.

The wounds were not merely physical, and Shito knew this was the problem. No, the wounds were also metaphysical, and Shito was only aware of a handful of people who could harm the already-dead in such a manner. Even less who might have cause to do so to Akatsuki Chika.

And there was only one person who would do it in the way that it had been done to him.

But Shito wanted Chika to wake before he did anything, went anywhere. He wanted to know first, if he would be making the trip to demand answers or to exact vengeance.

Either way, Toho of the Xu Fu had a lot to answer for.

**: End of Chapter 2 :**

And the plot thickens. Or something.

No Chika this chapter. He's busy being all victim-y and unconscious. But still cute.


End file.
